Worst Fanfic Ever
by calicoskies4ever
Summary: This is a Superman and House crossover. This is my atempt at the worst fanfic ever. reviews welcomed, no flames please.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I am intentionally writing the worst fan fiction story of all time. Please send me messages on how to make this worse.

Summery: When Superman falls ill there is only one man on the planet who might be capable of helping him, but is Dr. House up to the challenge? Is he even interested? So, here goes nothing. AU, crossover, OOC, and every other label available. No slash though. Hmmm. Wonder if I could do something about that.

"This just isn't happening. I mean, they don't expect. I can't. Nobody really thinks that I—help me out here please." Dr. Gregory House stuttered.

"Well, you say you're the best, so why not try it out? Seriously what's the worst thing that could happen?" Dr. James Wilson responded with a cheeky smile.

"Having to deal with Human patients is bad enough, but I can do that. I know whatever there is that I need to know in order to do it, but this. This is very different. He's different. I don't know the first thing about him." Dr. House limped back to his desk and picked up his Gameboy. He sat down and switched it on.

"I think that's why Cuddy told you to take a history. That would be the first step in treating any patient. Just go in there and talk to him." Dr. Wilson shifted his position, so that his eyes were looking to the door.

"This is insane. I'm not going to be Superman's doctor. There are at least a million things wrong with this situation." House ignored him. He'd discovered after many years that this was the best way to deal with his friend.

"Nobody has any idea what to do with this. You're not exactly the kind of doctor he would choose. But he's desperate. And nobody else knows what to do."

"It would certainly be something, wouldn't it? I mean, even if he does die, it would still really be something. To get to work on a puzzle of this difficulty. I just—how exactly are we supposed to take blood samples from this guy?"

"As of right now that's not an issue. His body seems to be weakened enough by the—whatever this is—that we have been able to take some blood. Unfortunately . . ." House cut him off.

"The results are inconclusive. He's not human and therefore all he signs we look for in human illness mean absolutely nothing. Right?" Wilson nodded. Days like this, House wished he'd stayed at home instead of coming into work. This really was going to be something. At least he had that to look forward to. House stood up and limped out of his office and towards the patient's room.

"You're going to talk to him? You're actually going to have a conversation with him? This I have to see." Dr. Wilson could remember the last time that House had done something to actually amaze him. He was often disgusted, surprised, angered, but almost never amazed. He followed his friend into the hallway and watched as he entered the hospital room. There was a bed, with a fairly normal looking patient, that is if you consider an alien dressed in brightly colored tights normal.


	2. Chapter 2

After being told that I needed to make spelling, grammar and formatting mistakes to make this the worst fic ever I will stop running spell check. You asked for it Sucker.

Superman sat up in bed weakly as the door to his hospital room slid open. Two men entered is room. One wa a man he already knew. This was Dr. Wilson, who had treated Superman previously, or rather didn't reat him, since he wasn't abel to find anything. The man Dr. Wilson was following was not like anyone Superman had ever seen. He wa wearing a gold pin wit hthe words. Dr. House engraved on it, but this man did not look like a doctor. He was dressedin jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. He was probably the only doctor in the hospital, besides the administrative staff, who wasn't wearing a lab coat. He walked, or rather limped, with a cane and his face was unshaven and dirty. There was just something about him that Superman didn't trust. A quick skan with his x-ray vision showed Superman that the man had a walled with twenty five dollars and a drivers liance for a man named Gregory Houise who looked just like the so called doctor, and a bottle of Vicodian also perscirbed to the same man. Superman couldn't help but wonder what business, if any, this man had being a doctor. The man limped over to his bedside looking at the chart.

"Is it true that you can see through anything?" Dr. House asked.

"Pretty much, yeah. Why do you ask? Does this really have anything to do with my condition?"

"Nope, just wondering. Sy how many figers am I holding up?" The man asked, putting a hand behind his back. Superman felt himself smile despite he situation.

"Hosue," Dr. Wilson growled from the door. "Hey cut that out." Superman x-rayed. The so-called doctor was giving him the finger.

"Be careful where you point that thing," Superman warned. It was pretty much the only thing he could think of. He decided he must be hallucinating. House nodded.

"So um, it says here your name is. . . Ka—ka—Ca—I'm sorry," the 'doctor' asked. Superman wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "Geeze what language is that?"

"Kryptonian. I'm pretty much the only one left. It's pronucned Kal-el."

"Yeah, whatever. It's not really that important. SO what do we have here. Mmhmm.I'm a little confused by all of the stuff in this chart it looks like a monkey took this down. Why don't you just tell me what your symptoms are."

"I think I have a fever. It's hard to be sure because my body runs quiet a bit warmer than yours—human's—and so you cant really test it but I feel like I'm warmer than usual. Headaches, eakness, a lot of weakness actually. Chills, Nausa," Superman's list ticked on, House saw that it was all in the chart but to be perfectly honest (ha) he just wanted to see how this Superman person would describe himself.

"Right, yeah. Your previous medical history is completely empty? Are you telling g me that you've never had so much as a cold in your whole life? What are you hiding?"

"Actually," Superman said with a cough, not a fake one but actually coughing. "I've never been sick a day in my life-not on Earth anyway. Anything that happened before that pretty much—went up in smoke." Dr. Wilson stepped forward.

"If you're finished grilling this paitent, I think you've got all the pertent information," he said dragging Dr. House out of the room by the arm. Once in the hall Wilson and House engaged each other in a stareing contest.

"What was that for," House grumbled. "I was interviewing my newest patinet."

"You were treating him like a criminal. He's dying. The man doesn't need that kind of stress right now."

"I don't trust him," House stated mater-o-factly. "He's just too good. He's got to be up to something."

"Right," Wilson said with a chuckle. "He cant possibly be a good person, or someone who cares about others?"

"Anyway, I have no idea what's wrong with the guy. What did you expect, huh? Alright, I'll take it to the team, but I don't think we're going to come up with much. For all we know its some Craptoian illness."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: bigger and worser, formate change, major out of character, slash, bizarre behaviour, male pregnancy, femslash, etc

AN: bigger and worser, format change, major out of character, slash, bizarre behavior, male pregnancy, femslash, etc. I haven't spell checked any of this and purposely spelled a lot of stuff wrong/ made grammatical errors. Should be the worst thing ever. Also it's pretty much over. I think.

Dr. House, Lex Luthor, Superman, Dr. Foreman, Dr. Chase, Dr. Cameron, Dr. Cuddy, and Dr. Wilson are all gathered together in Supermans room. Lex and Superman are holding hands at first, but they lets go quicklie when Lois Lane entered the room. Lois raced over and kisses superman who looks up at Luthor as if to say, "what she's gonna do whatever she wants no matter how hard I try to stop it. I don';t want this!"

House: I supposed you ll are wondering why I called you down here today—well except for you Clark. You were already here, so I didn't have to call you.

Superman; excuse me?

Lois: did you just call him Clark? Oh my god! (she pulls away, rubs her sleeve over her tongue and then pulls out a giant jar of anti-bacterial gel and chugs it.) I am leaving now.

House: Yes, I did, because the first thing I figured out while treating this paitent is that he's a liar. Superman and Clark Kent are the same person. It took me about ten seconds to figure it out. I mean, how stupid can you people be? (House pulls a pair of glasses out of his lab coat—oh yeah, did I meantion that he finally started wearing one? Remember his conditions as to what would have to happen before he would put it on…two days of outrageous sex with someone obscenely younger than Cuddy, well I'll get to that later—and puts them on his face) Look I'm Clark Kent! (he takes then off) Now, I'm Superman. Clark Kent (glasses on) Superman (off) Clark, Superman, Clark, Superman.

Lois: I can't bleiee I never figured that out. I'm supposed to be a reporter. How could I not pick up on that? Hmm, I wonder. Do you think I make a good reporter?

House: no.

Chase: I dunno.

Wilson: not really, sorry.

Foreman: fo shizzle my nizzle, Not!

Cameron: well, I don't wanna be mean, but you aren't the best reporter ever. I dunno. I'm think I'm just not going to answer that question.

Cuddy: well, everyone has room for improvement. You should keep your hair out of your eyes, it makes you look much prettyier that way.

Lois: you think so?

Cuddy: yes, you're beautiful.

Lois: what about you, Clark?

Superman/Clark Kent: sort of, but only because you can make anyting exceiting, and you try to chase down dangerous criminals, all by yourself and they usually confess to everything, right before they plan on killing you. Then I fly in, save your life, and you have a great story.

Lois: maybe I should consider becoming something else. What kind of a job can I get, though? All Ive everwanted was to be a reporter. I'm not very good at anything else.

House: you're not that good of a reporter either. You could become a hooker. Personally, you couldn't pay me enough money to sleep with you, but there re lots of guys with much lower standards who might give you a couple bucks for a roll in the hay, especially if it's dark.

Lois: well I never! (she storms off. A moment goes buy.) What's wrong with Clark? I need to know for my new article. I've decided to become a gossip columnist, and could use some juicy tid-bits. And what are you doing here, Luthor?

House: Superman and Lex Luther pretend to be each other's arch-nemis-nemis—enemies, but in fact it's all just play acting. Sexy Lexy over here pretends to try and takee over the the world, and then Superma stops him, just in timel It's actually quiet brilliant. If he wasn't "fighting" Lex Luthor, Superman would spend most of his time rescuing cats from trees and putting out small fires, and stopping Foreman from stealing cars.

Foreman: you racist creep! How dare you suggest that I'm a criminal just because I'm black! I should sue you.

Cameron: you can't sue House for telling the truth. He's just a million times smarter than everybody else. HE can't help it if what he says coumes out sounding rude. That is just his way. Besides, you are a car thief! You stole mine yesterday.

Foreman; well yeah, but I brought it back, didn't I?

Cameron: you brought back my puppy and kitten bumper sticker.

Foreman (blushes slightly) it was the only thing I couldn't sell.

House: anyway, back to our poor, sick paitent. Superman is suffering from Kyrptonite poisoning. Lex Luthor has been sprinkeling it in his oatmeal every morning. Not enough to kill him, mind you, just a tiny bit.

Superman: you said those were green raisins! You tried to kill me? Why?

Lex: if oyou weren't cheating on me with Lios Lane, Lana Lang, and Pete Ross, I wouldn't have to.

Superman: I told you, I've never ever cheated on you. Lois keeps throwing herself at me, but I wasn't actually gonna do anything. She's disgusting. I love you.

Lex: you really didn't cheat? (he looks at Clark with a suspicious look on his face).

Superman: of course not! I would never do anything to hurt you.

House: I don't know if he's telling the truth, this guy lies so much it's hard to be sure of anything, but aI can tell you something that will—I have what I think is good news. Superman is pregnant, and it is most definetly Luthor's child.

Lois: how is that even possible?

House: seriously? Okay, well then. This one is a bit complicated. You see, when two people really, really love each other, they will take off all of their clothes, climb into bed, or a shower, or the back seat of a car, and one partner will take his pee-pee and put it in the other one's wee-wee, and well after that it gets sort of private, and technical, but nine months later the little bundle of joy pops out of the previously mententiond wee-wee, after hours of pushing, and grunting, screaming, as weel as accidental pissing and most people take a dump on the table while giving birth. And then you have ababy.

Lois: but their both men. They can't have a child.

House: why? Because you said so. That is so close minded. Now, I've taken the liberty of injecting Superman with some Kyrtionite anti-dote, and as long as you don't poision him ever again your-whatever, and the baby should be fine. Ta-da!

Chase: Greg,. I need to talk to you in private. (House lmped across the room, and pulls a privacy curtain all around the room's second bed. The bed is emty obviously. He sits on the mattress with his feet up.) When are you going to tell everybody?

House: tell everybldy what?

Chase: you know, the thing, about us!

House: oh that. You sure you wanna say it in front of everyone.

Chase: well I am a little nervous.

House: maybe we can make out for a minute and make you feel better.

Chase; you do realize that everybody is right there, just outside the curtain? They can probably hear us right now, and if they can't wthey wwill hear us if we start to have sex.

House: fine (he opens the curtain and everyone except for superman and Lex are standing twice as close as they were before, trying to lisen in. the reason Clark and Lex haven't joined th others is because they have already climbed into bed together and are snuggling and cooing happily.) What is wrong with everybody in this hospital? Are you so sex starved that you need to listen in on me and Chase.

Chase: I wasn't-that is to say we weren't…not that we haven't before, but—you know. We would never, in the hospital—at least not in a paitents room

House: not that it isn't completely obviousl to all of you, Robert and I are together. (everyone stares) you see it turns out that he's actually quite brilliant, and kind, and sexy, and even funny.

Chase: A fellow walks intop a bar, sits down, orders a beer, and waits for the bartender to come back. While he's sitting there, he starts to hear voices talking to him, "nice shirt," they say. "love the tie," "that's a grat haircut." Man leans over the counter, and asks the bartender, 'what's going on?" The bartender says, "Oh that's the pretzels. They're complimentry."

Foreman: ohh—kay.l

House: shut up you degenerate, or I'm going to fire you! No, on second thought, I'm going to make you wash Chase's hair. If it isn't done every four hours, he won't look ocmpletly perfect and we can't have that, now can we?

House: gay? Yeah, well sort of—I wasn't always, but then I slept with Cuddy, and ever since then…women are just gross. Chase would have been the perfect transitioning boyfriend, but we fell in love, and this weekend we drove to Massachusetts and got married.

Cameron: no wonder he never wanted to sleep with me. I'm so relieved. I always thought it was my fault, now I know it wasn't.

House: yeah, yeah, yeah, everyone's excited for the gorgous but tragically flawed chick. Either p attention to us, or go away.

Wilson: I think I'm going to cry. This is so exciting! Though, I guess it means we won't get to hang out as much anymore. Whjat am I gonna do with all my free time?

House: Actually…Chase, why don't you tell him?

Chase: you can do whatever you want, as long as he is home at 9:00. I need 25 minutes for—stuff and another 15 for cuddling. After that, as long as he doesn't leave the apartment, I don't care. (Wilson starts to cry tears of joy).

Wilson: can I throwyou guys a wedding parry? Please?

House: well, he does know a whole lot more about being married than we do. So, sure, but no female strippers.

Wilson and Chase (in unision); ew gross!

Lois (to Cuddy): I don't think I'll ever look at men the same way ever again. Wanna go experiment with our sexuality in the janirtor's closet?

Cuddy (lustfully): I thought you'd never ask. (They link arms and skip off together.)

Foremna: Alison, there's something I've been meaning ot tell oyu, for a long time, but II've never really never really been sure how I was supposed to go about it. SO, I guess I should just come out and say it. I _like_ you.

Cameron: no, you don't. You stole my article, tried to infect me with that disease, and told me were colleges not friends. And you stole my car and sold it for scrap!

Foreman: No, I mean, I like you, like you.I've had the biggest crush on you ever since we first met. It's just so difficult to tell someone how you really feel about them. So, I was mean to you, in the hopes that it would get your attention. Then you went out on a date with House, and I assume, slept with me.

House: oh puh-leeze. If I was gonna start dating women again, do you really think I'd go out with her? Not until she at least does something nice with her hair, or stops chewing on her fingersnails. Ohh—makeover!

Chase: but you promised to give me a bubble bath. It's. Not. Fair! (Chase begans to cry)

House: ohh, Bobby, sweetie, relax. I was only joking. I'm not going to forget about your bath. Now, go pick out the toys you're gonna wanna play with in the tub, and I'll find the bubble stuff.

Chase: can I bring my dinosaur? (House nodds, and Chase runs off happily.)

Cameron: Dr. House, are you feeling alright? You've been acting strange all day, you're nice, and you got married, to Chase!

House: I'm fine. (Camern gives him the look) Okay, okay, I'll tell you. Just stop making that face. If you keep doing it, you're face is gonna get stuck that way, and I'm hafta fire you. To answer your question, I'm only mean, cold, sarcastic, and rude on the outside, because y father treated me like a 19-year-old PFC from the moment I could talk. I was smart enough to learn how to avioud getting into trouble most of the time, but occasionally he'd just get in one of his moods and I'd end up getting sent to sleep in the yard for a week—no sleeping bag, no blankets, nothing—because I accidently spilled my milk at dinner. Living like that, growing up like that,m it made me incrduibully insecure and unhappy, and all sorts of bad stuff, but I knew that if anyone ever fond out about it, they'd baby me, and I'd never be able to do my job, or watch my soap, or anything. So, I'm mean to everybody, and never let anyone in, and I use my massivly superiour intellect to make you all feel like idiots because it was the only wat to get you to leave me alone. Luckily Robert saw through all of the nastiness and the mean-spirtited remarks, and discovered what was really inside of me. (Foreman who had left during House's speech returns with a dozen tulips).

Foreman: I know these are or favorites, so I went out and got a hole bunch.I also wrote you a poem, baked cookies, and there's also something else I want you to see. (He leads her over to the window. Her car is in the parking lot, all shiny, and painted brigt pink.)

Cameron: wow, but you said you sold it for scrap? How on Earth did you get my car back? That is really my car right?

Foreman: I stoll your keys and had some people I know pimp your ride. I had the inside detailed, got you four new tires, a fresh paint job, and I saved the bumpersticker so you could put it back on when she was ready.

Cameron: oh, that was so nice of you! (She squeals, smiling so wide you can see all of her teeth.)

Foreman: So, will you go out with me or what?

Cameron: of course I will! (She runs over, hugs him, and they kiss. Cameron leans against Foreman slightly, lifting up her leg and bending it at the knee.)

(Chase reenters, his arms loaded down with toy cars, action figures, and a couple plastic dinoasaurs.)

Chase: okay, I'm ready for my bubble bath now.

House: okay, let's go home, and I'll draw the bath, and put those feety pajamas on when we're done. How does that sound?

Chase: yippie!

Wilson: can I come with you guys and—you know—stay with you?

House: well you know what I alwas say, the more the merryier, but it's really Bobby's descision. So, what do you think, Chase?

Chase: I don't wanna share my bath time.

House; he won't cut in on that, I promise. Wilson just wants us all to be really good friends. It's going to be lots of fun, plus you need to learn to share better. (Case poutts momentarily, then smiled a little, and wraps his arms around Wilson.) Well then, I tkonm qr gsbr pur s,efer/

The End.


End file.
